When we were finished with the meal he suggested taking a walk. I started to like him more and more as we strayed along Brick Lane. I was amazed that he didn’t try to impress me with a fancy restaurant. He was charming and hilarious yet respectful. The fact that I was leaving in three-weeks was eating me up inside. 
When we walked into the Commercial Tavern on Commercial Street, I fell in love with the place. Every little detail was so smart and cool. He got us two pints of good old Guinness, and my heart started jolting seeing him approach our table. I knew I had to tell him before it was too late for any confessions. I swallowed when the words spurted from my lips, “I am going back to Berlin in three-weeks”. His eyes grew for a second and then said, “I knew there was something” slapping the table. Waving his hand in the air between us, he said “this whole thing just seemed too perfect, I knew it damn it” .Then he added “now what?” I knew what I was supposed to say as I started to like him a lot, “let’s enjoy this time which is ours and hopefully the remaining three weeks as well.” He held my hand, “Well then, let’s make this a hell of a three-weeks.”
With the confession revealed, I was feeling even more comfortable with him. With all the talking and laughing I didn’t realise it was almost midnight already. He was showing me places nothing like the London I knew: no people with ties, no talk of money. Everything was colourful just like himself. Graffiti on the walls, people dressed in all colours were forming a kaleidoscopic background for him. He wasn’t attempting to get fresh with me, although I could see it in his eyes. He walked me back to Liverpool Street Station. As I was going to give my good-bye kiss, he leaned and asked “can I kiss you?” in the sweetest voice. 
So, we kissed. We kissed all through three-weeks and all through Shoreditch. I loved London like I had never loved anywhere before. All the streets of Shoreditch, the bliss, the sense of euphoria made me regret my decision to go back to Berlin. Without him Berlin didn’t make sense at all. So what happened after all? Shoreditch is full of extraordinary experiences, far beyond one can imagine. The cute, quirky guy with the purple t-shirt is my husband now, and we keep the Ménage à trois with Shoreditch. Thanks to him I met with Shoreditch; thanks to “the date” in Shoreditch I am married with my husband. I fell in love with Shoreditch through him; I fell in love with London through Shoreditch.
FIN
